Her body
motionless
as gentle waves lick
at the edge of rising sea
a piece of bleached white driftwood
caught in the breach
of tar-like boulders –
an ancient lava bed
polished by the ebb and flow –
tenderly rocking,
mattress of moss,
pillow of stone,
smooth skin,
sheets of foam.

Born from inside
the earth,
alien softness,
child at rest
in the bosom
of a safe embrace –
volcanic shoulders and arms,
skin to stone –
protected from
enduring wind, rain,
ice and surging tides,
orphan at home
she nestles in their warmth,

a sleeping form.
Her curved breasts,
bared buttocks, limbs,
intimate fit
with sculpted ledge,
solitary, steadfast –
no fear, no shame,
sisterly trust
of earth and flesh –
mute rocks shed no tears
from happiness or pain,
do not lust or betray,
are satisfied
with the attention
of a moment shared.